


When It Comes To Stories, I Thought I Knew Them All

by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adultery, Angst?, Brutal Honesty, Can get fucked up because I have the liberty to do so, Certain actorless characters are described, Character Study (Sorta), Cheating, Constant parallels between Hamilton and Burr (applies to the politicians wives and children), Everybody isn't bad either, F/M, Follows the Timeline of the Musical-ish, Gen, I'm paranoid, In Accordance to the Musical, Infidelity, Lol everybody isn't good, Lots of comparisons are made, M/M, References to sexual activity, So basically everyone looks like the actors, Stories in general are a constant theme, Timeline kinda mushes with History, Warnings are specific to the chapter, more warnings in the notes, stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk/pseuds/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk
Summary: Theodosia loved hearing people's insights and experiences. These things have always been shaping her way of thinking.Or certain times Theodosia observed and listened and certain times Theodosia became narrator like she always wanted.





	1. Can I Be Real A Second?

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, there is a great lack of Theodosia fics. Both of them.
> 
> This one focuses on Aaron Burr's first wife.
> 
> Also, this is entire thing is just one huge headcanon for a character that doesn't even have her own actor. But God, their character affects one of the leads so much.
> 
> My take on Theo's musical personality was relatively inspired by the acclaimed personality of the actual historical figure. (She used her intelligence and keen observation skills to help Burr on his law studies, which is honestly sweet of her.)
> 
> Also, hypothetical actors are in place for actorless characters. (Like Theo Sr., Theo Jr., John Adams, and Philip Schuyler for example.) They are described if they appear in the part.
> 
> Now keep calm and read on!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George Washington receives an unexpected welcome from a generous patriot.
> 
> Also, he admits feelings he rather keep to himself.

George couldn't feel any more relieved and actually happier.

A Mrs. Prevost offered her residence to him and his army.

The place was large enough for everyone's accomodation.

George could've sworn Prevost was a name from a loyalist officer, but this Mrs. Prevost clearly proved her alligance to the patriots with her generous offer.

He remembered well his first meeting with her.

He never met a woman with such graceful wit and willingness to judge--or study, in a way, his views.

His soldiers were welcomed with heavy hospitality.

The house practically radiated said hospitality.

"Your exellency,"

He turned to finally meet her in the hallway.

Mrs. Prevost was actually more beautiful than anticipated.

She looked rather aged still, slight bags from under her greyish-turquoise eyes. Her skin was a few shades lighter than his own; whether the complexion was white or black was debatable.

Her hair was looked light as dust; a long, flowing and feathery floof of waves and curls. It was black edged with dark chocolate.

She was rather tall too, standing probably between his soldiers Lafayette and Mulligan. At least George didn't have to crane his neck downwards too much to look at her properly.

Her dress yelled "France!" in style and cut; the colors, however, beamed the "America!" the revolutionaries would always scream.

The dress complemented her curvy and well-rounded body.

"Mrs. Prevost," He greeted her back, finally recovering from her sudden greeting. "I'm very grateful for your efforts."

"I'm pleased to hear so," _Wow, her voice is a lot deeper than I thought. How did I only process this now?_

George smiled back, removing his hat and keeping it in his hands.

"I hope I can ensure some bit of joy for you and your soldiers, sir," She continued, the richness of her deep voice still leaving George in awe.

_Lucky is a man to have such a woman like her._

"I believe you'll do fine, Mrs. Prevost. Safety and freedom is what we will return to you."

She smiled, then gazed into George's eyes. He didn't pick up this move.

Leading him to the guest room, "You seem hesitant, sir."

George tried to keep himself from spitting a curse at her.

The last thing he wanted was somebody telling him how to run his army. Or at least judge him for not doing so as well as expected.

His cheeks only reddened. "What makes you say so, Mrs. Prevost?"

She opened the door to the guest room. It was empty, but still welcoming.

"Have a seat," She gestured. He sat on the long couch and she followed instantly, sitting on a couch chair at thr side of the long couch.

George couldn't help but feel comfortable. The house was so beautiful. The name of the place was practically the cherry on top.

"You're scared," The words snapped George out of the comforts of the home.

"Scared?" He impulsively raised his voice.

Mrs. Prevost flinched. Washington never noticed. "You're scared for your men, fearing of what can happen to them."

"I hope you understand that I am responsible for these men, Mrs. Prevost." Washington's authority was apparently the material of which his own words were built from.

"I understand, yes," She relaxed herself, "but it seems that you are more scared than usual. I have no experience of war, and I know I never will, but every soldiers' eyes tell all; in all bravery one carries, there will still be a small bit of fear."

"To keep him in reality," George rambled. "And such a truly fearless man cannot exist."

She nodded. "It's sensible that the smallest bit of fear is able to make sure bravery is what it is." She paused.

"In fact, a little fear has that effect on many other virtues as well, don't you think?"

The depth of their conversation--George couldn't handle it.

My mistake; a deep conversation, rather, was the last thing George wanted.

He wanted to relax a little, and yes, he was at The Hermitage, but the hostess apparently wants him to engage in talks of his own philosophy.

"Your excellency?" Her words cut his thoughts.

"Madam," He snapped back to reality, giving his attention back to the woman before him.

He wasn't too open of a book, right?

He could've sworn that Mrs. Prevost not only had fine eyes but eyes that can also spread books open. Really wide open.

It felt invasive, in his opinion.

"W-we should drop the formalities; don't friends have the freedom to speak casually with one another?" He turned to her, an awkward smile on his face.

The hostess's smile widened, pleased to hear that she was considered a friend to George Washington. "Then what titles am I to use then?"

"Just refer to me as George. I do not expect much with titles." He was happy he could turn the conversation to another, more comfortable direction.

"Call me Theodosia. Theo if you want something shorter."

"I take pleasure in your name, Miss Theodosia."

"I admire your manners, George." She got up, going to the bookshelves of the room, taking a book. "Am I making you uncomfortable, George?"

_Shit, she's on to me._

_Why is she reading me?_

He faked a chuckle. "Of course not. Do not worry yourself, Theodosia."

She faced him, clutching on the book. "A man's eyes tell all. You didn't like that I saw your fear."

His brows furrowed, and he glanced away from her.

Quickly turning back, "I pray that you are not a spy of sorts, Theodosia."

"I'm a proud patriot, George!" Her voice raised slightly.

"If you're wondering, I read everyone." She then walked back to her area on the couch chair. "It's something that I've always done and will always be doing. I like to think that the habit's a part of me."

"And what do you get from doing that?"

"More knowledge and wisdom." She sat down, the book flat on her lap.

"Is that all the benefits you want?"

"I'll wait to see if I find more, George." She smiled.

_This woman reeks of Burr._

All of a sudden, a part of Washington had some distrust for Theodosia.

"Would you care to entertain me with one of your stories from battle?" She snapped his thoughts again. "Maybe to clear your mind of what just transpired in our conversation?"

"I have fought many battles, Theodosia." George said after a pause. "And I do not want a story of mine to scar you."

She looked at him with a look that knew he was underestimating her abilities.

Theodosia raised the book in her lap. "Have you read this? It's my favorite."

The cover was a dark indigo color. The engravings were silver in color. On it was, **_"Les Mille et une Nuits"_**.

"I'm afraid I do not know how to speak French."  _I'm surprised you can!_

There was slight disappointment in her face. "I did not realize it."

"How does the book appeal to you, Theodosia?" He tried to save her from embarrassment, even if none of it was evident in her.

"I always loved stories, George. This book centers on the general topic of stories," She responded with enthusiasm. "It basically a story with stories which have stories within them as well. Each and every one of them have their own charms; some connect with other fellow tales. Albeit a foreign work, as well as a work of fiction; I believe I've found the greatest of written works this world can behold."

George was taken in with Theodosia's words. "What does the title mean?"

"The Thousand and One Nights," She told him. "A story for each night..."

"That book is too small to hold more than a thousand stories!" George exclaimed, confused at the size of the book.

"This is only one of ten volumes. The rest are in the bookshelves." She pointed to where she got the book in her hands. 

The room then was silent.

George was fine with this.

He reclined on the couch some more, placing the hat on his side.

After a few minutes, he glanced at her.

Her cheeks were rosier than usual, her lips curled into a smirk.

Her eyes disturbingly carried a salacious air, almost as if the series of books she was apparently reading were conveying a completely different message.

"Our lives are stories, you know?" He said to break the silence.

She snapped away from her trance from the book, glancing to to George.

George wished he didn't say that.

"Indeed!" She raised her voice with a swing of glee, putting the book down.

_Now she reeks of Hamilton._

_I pray she won't act boldly as my son does._

"It is interesting to think how...different our lives are. No, diverse." He could feel her excitement about the topic.

"We cannot control its direction I'm afraid." He said.

"One can never stop dreaming, George." She replied. "Are we not the writers of our own stories? Aren't the decisions we make the roads we take? Don't we shape our plots?"

"Not everyone survives the trip," His voice tensed up. George couldn't help but argue back for some reason. "Only the survivors get to write. Whatever plans are left with the victim dies with them. Therefore, none of us have control on our stories." He breathed.

Theodosia laughed. It was clear in her face that she was enjoying their outbursts of opinions.

"You cannot stop the writer. You cannot control the writer." She persisted.

George was pissed at the response.

"Nor can you control the publisher," He stood up, unnoticably shaking. "Most especially the publisher. He can do whatever he wants with the material given to him!"

He stopped and realized that he had began yelling at the hostess.

She didn't look too surprised. Her face only show very little signs of being taken aback.

"Since when were we talking about history, Washington?" She rose. "History is a merciless storyteller, after all. It cuts what it wants and keeps what it wants."

_She wants a fight._

_She's clearly not backing down._

_Neither am I._

"We cannot control the actions of the teller. We cannot also control who exactly the teller is."

"You can still have more than one testimony." She smirked. "It explains why truth is never absolute...makes our lives even better. Makes every story worth a listen."

And then she kept George from replying.

"Have you also considered the readers--the listeners? Those who learn the story from the storyteller? They can do anything they want with that new information, no?"

George then realized that she opened herself to him.

He hesitated speaking a few times until his thoughts were arranged.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" She asked.

"Theodosia," He looked at her eyes once more.

He could see words flying willy-nilly in those eyes.

But these words he could not understand. They went by a bit quicker than he could comprehend.

"Why tell me your interest in stories?" He finished his speech.

"George, I've spread you far too wide open, and we both know the act had to be returned with something just as fair." She frowned.

"So you figure out my repressed love for these young men, then you feel bad for your own invasiveness--"

"Well, you clearly felt uncomfortable, and I didn't want to make you feel that way,"

"Yes, and now that I think about it, I shouldn't have lied to you." He paused briefly. "But you apparently try to make up for the invasiveness by flaunting your passions?"

"You understand my motivations." There was a hint of pride as she stood. "And it's fair, right?"

"What is?"

"That I open up through forgiveness for looking into your feelings without consent."

He paused. "You explained yourself...y-your behavior earlier."

"I was bothered with the thought of my reasons being invalid in your eyes."

"Then you have done the cautious thing, and I admire you for it..." He tried to set his thoughts right. "You could've just said that you didn't mean it."

"Aren't we friends, George?"

"We are. I said so."

"Then friends we are," She took the book she was reading and placed it back where it came from. "And good friends try to understand each other."

"I concur." He walked towards her.

"You have flattering words and the finest eyes in the world." George complimented. "You'd make a damn, fine storyteller, Theodosia."

And here, George saw, Theodosia's honest dreams and aspirations be begotten right in front of him. Said dreams and aspirations were sided with hopes for the said things to come true.

He told her that he would look for Charles Lee, and so she let him leave the guest room.

As he walked the halls, spotting Lee at the end of it, he prayed that his own hopes for the land he was fighting for would come true.

 


	2. Everyday's A Test of Our Camaraderie and Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alex get caught.
> 
> Also, Alex is protective and John gets consolation from said person who caught them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR THIS SPECIFIC CHAPTER: Aftermath of getting walked in, Blatant mentions of Religious topics, Internalized Homophobia, Sexual Themes
> 
> Read with caution! Or don't read this chapter.
> 
> BEHOLD A LAMS CHAPTER!

Fear ran itself down both his and Alexander's bones.

The footsteps.

The knocking.

The creak of the door.

They weren't even ready.

Just as the smallest bit of candle light entered the room, John quickly got off Alexander, the sound of the sheets echoing in the room.

Alex quickly pushed himself off the bed and hurriedly got his clothes. This actions were too fast for John to comprehend, but it was neccessary.

But Alex wasn't fast enough.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I'd like to-" _Oh God it's Mrs. Prevost._

John was left on the bed, using the sheets to cover himself.

He was sweaty. His curls were messy, and the freckles on his face were like laser pointer lights.

The woman stared at him, her face flushed with a similar color. Her eyes were the only thing about her that showed a bit of shock.

She looked into his eyes.

Fear, hunger, and self-loathing.

"I-It's not what it looks like," Theodosia turned her candle to the source of the voice.

Alexander was at the other corner of the room, the only thing on him being socks. He covered himself with the rest of his clothes as Theodosia's gaze turned to him.

John realized that Alex picked up some of his clothes with him.

But it's not like he could get it now anyway.

Theodosia glanced back at John, hands covering his face. She may have seen tears but she wasn't sure.

She caught the marks on his upper body.

They were not wounds. Not deficiencies. No _._

These were legacies. **Stories.**

Each mark was a story--and by God!

A part of Theo was dying to understand each story.

Her husband already deprived her of the chance for them to have shared politcal and philosophical interests. Now he deprived her his romantic interests.

And probably sexual interests too.

Although, to be fair, in Theodosia's opinion, another child from that man was not what she wanted.

Not anymore at least.

As her hand reached for the door knob, Alex begged, "Please don't tell-"

His voice was cut with the sounds of Theodosia locking the door.

"...anyone?" He finished softly but audibly.

She glanced off to something, and chuckled lightly.

Alex was blushing and confused.

John was scared and was trying to stop crying.

"What a waste for such well-endowed gentlemen," She muttered (however audibly to the men in the room) to herself.

John was surprised she still called him and Alex " _gentlemen_ ".

Alex blushed harder, almost fully dressed already.

"Look, I'm not going to tell on the both of you," She turned to them.

Relief was evident in both men's eyes.

"As much as the act confuses me, some people forget that our God is forgiving. Blessed are those who remember that about Him, for they are strong enough to move on from their sins," She rambled.

She saw guilt in their faces.

Hamilton was repressing said guilt.

Laurens was drowning himself  in it.

She sighed at the sight of them as she went and placed the candle in her hands on the bedside table.

"The Winter's Ball's in a few days, gentlemen." She tried to lighten the mood.

"And this is how you prepare?" She laughed.

John sulked into the sheets.

Alex was fully dressed by then, crossing his arms. "You underestimate us, Mrs. Prevost."

"Theodosia, instead," She pleaded with amusement. "I didn't expect one of Washington's sons in this position."

"I am not his son," Alexander retorted bitterly, an offended expression on his face.

"Well suit yourself, aide-de-camp; he talks about you like you are actually his son," She approached him who leaning against the corner.

He blew a raspberry. "Alexander Hamilton."

"A pleasure, sir." They shook hands.

_Maybe I should've let him clean up more before shaking his hand._

The thought of hers leaked out into her face's expression.

Alexander caught it, quickly rubbing his hand roughly on his side upon his night shirt.

She left her hand (which shook Alexander's) free from other touch.

Then she remembered that sucking on her thumbs was an occasional habit--occasional habit? I don't really know what that means, but neither does she.

Remembering that, she prayed she wouldn't do it tonight.

Hamilton was the last person she wanted a taste of.

In fact, she knew Alexander belonged to someone else, and turned to that "someone else".

John did not look like a good sight.

She felt pity.

She glanced at Alexander, who was torn to whether help John or deal with her.

"I'll go get you both some water," She rushed to get the candle.

"N-no," Alex stopped her. "I need to make up for our actions."

"You can't make up for an act by two." She picked up the candle with her clean hand. "He needs you, Alexander."

Hamilton moved his gaze once more to Laurens.

_Dearest..._

The poor fool was wrapped up in the sheets of the bed. He was trying so hard to keep down the sobs.

Soldiers like John knew he shouldn't be like this. Not during war.

Hamilton turned back to Theodosia.

"I'm getting us water, Theodosia." He said firmly, exiting the room before she could protest.

It then clicked immediately in the woman's mind that Hamilton did not trust her outside their room with the information in her head.

Yes, she said she wouldn't tell, but she did not **promise** so.

She saw something new about him in his eyes.

 _A promise-keeper,_ \--her eyes said.

 _Wait,_ \--her mind made speculations. _No, he's a hypocrite._

She didn't want to see Alexander in such a light, but a part of her--of which she knew made the most peculiar, but somewhat accurate of guesses--claimed the soldier will leave John if tempted enough.

Enough word about him being a whoreson and bastard orphan from Aaron ensured that perhaps her speculation may as well be correct.

_Now isn't the time to linger on this._

_Not when his lover is clearly distraught._

If there was one way Theodosia could make it up to Alexander her gossip-worthy thoughts, it was perhaps trying to comfort John Laurens.

She put down the candle once more, then went to the bed Laurens was on.

She sat next to the curled up disaster that was John Laurens.

"Leave me," His voice cracked from under the sheets. "I do not need further reminders of my sinfulness."

"I did not come to rebuke your actions-"

"Then why walk in if you had an idea of what we were up to?"

"I never did-"

Laurens jerked up, his looks giving Theo more to be concerned about. "Don't lie!"

He wanted to be left alone.

Theo believed that further self-loathing will make things worse for everyone.

"You two were making noise." She gave her reason as to why she walked in. "I know my room is two doors away...my ears are sensitive."

"We...we weren't discreet enough," Laurens mumbled to himself.

He kept inflicting venom onto himself.

Every word he was uttering then had self-harming venom.

This was painful for Theodosia to look at.

She's seen the ashes of that phoenix called Alexander Hamilton. The traumas of the man she fancies that was Aaron Burr. The self-doubts of everyone's beloved George Washington.

Righ there, she beheld the self-loathing shame of John Laurens.

Nothing could ever be so painful in her eyes.

Then she snapped herself out her thoughs when she saw John was practically shoving his fists down on the bed. He was trying to release himself from invisible chains.

He was a slave to the judgments of their monstrous world.

Maybe that's why he wanted freedom for slaves. He always was so vocal on the idea.

How could the place they were in be so polite when it's so monstrous?

"Sodomite, sodomite..." His voice raised from mutterings to muffled sobs.

Theo could make out the words at least.

"S-sodomites get hanged, John," He went on. "You know people like them are scum...s-scum of the earth...is this what y-you are t-then--"

He was startled with a finger that silenced him.

Theo's finger (from the hand that shook Alexander's) lightly pressed on John's lips.

She put her other hand on his shoulder.

_What is this?_

_She can't be nice to me right now--no..._ "I-I don't d-deserve this,"

He put down her wrists.

Theo would not accept that.

"John--"

"Don't even try--"

She silenced him as she ran that hand against Laurens's lips.

"You do not deserve to suffer," Her hand brushed off his face, quickly being shaken so whatever sin was left on her fingers were gone.

Laurens felt familiar moisture on his lips.

He looked away a bit and licked his lips.

The taste of _**Alexander**_...and Theodosia's sweat mixed in...

But mostly Alexander...the sweet, sweet taste of his dear boy Alexander.

"I shouldn't have shaken hands with Alex," Theo trailed off. John got the memo.

The soldier shook his head. "Why put your fingers on my lips--why silence me?"

"It's rude to talk while eating."

He stared right at her, surprised with such a statement from the hostess. He was really, really, red.

"Y-you're genuinely fine w-with...with u-us...?" He used the sheets to rub away his tears.

"I desire to know more," Theodosia felt excitement run through her veins. "I know geniune love when I see it."

She immediately took John by the chin, rubbing her thumb against his lips.

She quickly rubbed her hand onto the sheets as she watched him lick his lips.

It's hard to remove sin from your fingers after all.

Theodosia knew that.

The desire in John's expression...there really was love there, and Theodosia wanted to know more about it.

Another story to revel in.

"Does it taste good?"

John stopped licking his lips. He wasn't sure on what to answer.

"Tell me," Theodosia relaxed her stance. "Express how you feel."

This should calm him down.

"Feel...? A-about what?"

"Alexander," She said the man's name in the smoothest manner she could conjure, enough for John to marvel but not as to own the name.

"Alexander..." He began to relax, his smile becoming more joyous the more he dove into his thoughts. "He can say words better than I ever could...but that's alright."

"What do you feel when you're around him?"

"Safe. Yes--safe. Safer than my ambitions. Safer than this war. Safer than home. Safer than the act of accepting my wrongdoings..." His eyes were finally deprived of heavy pain.

"I just...I feel like I'm in the place to be. When I'm with him, that is. Just, f-free!"

He smiled and remained silent after saying this statement.

Theo looked at the other bed in the room. It was barely touched. Alex must've laid John's clothes there.

She got up and got said clothes.

How the clothes remained clean was a mystery to her.

John watched her. "C-can you hand those over, Theodosia?"

She smiled at him, tossing the clothes into his pretty good grasp.

"Thank you for your efforts." He breathed. "I didn't expect your kindness."

She chuckled as she went to pick up the candle. "I appreciate your openness."

Theodosia knew she could read people, but the depths of one's true feelings is hard to figure out.

At least, when it comes to people like Laurens.

Before she could ask where Alexander had been, she and John heard hushed bickering by the door.

 _"This isn't your business, Burr,"_ Alexander.

The footsteps stopped right by the door.

_"It still seems suspicious of you to be out wandering out at night,"_

_"Says you,"_

An offended gasp, _"At least I have reason to be up in the middle of the night!"_

_"And why would that be?"_

_"That's not for you to know,"_ Alex then twisted the door knob as Burr said this.

The people within the premises of the room remained quiet and still.

 _"Well, we're even then,"_ The expected soldier rushed in and shut the door.

How Alex managed to hold three glasses of water in one arm was a mystery.

When Burr's footsteps seemed to have left, Alex finally spoke to the people in the room. "Water, as promised."

Theo took a glass from his arm as Alex took another and gave it to John, who drank instantly. Alex followed after.

As Theodosia sipped her glass of water, the excitement returned to her.

Aaron was up just like her.

She made sure to ask him for a sweet, sweet favor once she left Alex and John's room.

But she as she drank right there, she watched as Alex consoled John further.

It was Alexander's words that John needed anyway. Not hers.

Although, she was proud of her words, since it still managed to help John anyway.

After finishing her glass, she excused herself and left the room.

 


	3. What The Hell Is The Catch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica doesn't like to be read.
> 
> She gets read anyway.

Hercules perked his head up, hearing that someone had entered the family tailor shop.

There were days where Hercules was fortunate enough to return home and learn further the complexities of his family's life's work.

These were one of these days.

"Mrs. Prevost," He smiled, adjusting his beanie and putting down a cloak he was embroidering. "What brings you here today?"

He paused. "Have you come to get a dress sewn for the wedding at the Schuyler's?"  _I can't wait to shower the soon-to-be-newly-weds in flowers!_

"I can't attend, I'm afraid." She pulled out a coat from her basket. "Do you accept repairs?"

He took the coat into his hands. The hems were loose. There was a fair amount of rips on the coat as well.

"Of course,"

He then tried to stop her from from giving him any payment. "No, please."

"I didn't think lending my house to Washington gave me the privilege to have my order done for free, Hercules."

He chuckled, the raspiness of his voice adding to his amusement. "Are you rejecting that privilege, 'cause I'm sure as hell that you are!"

She smirked. "I think those who deserve their tailoring free are those who should get the privilege."

"But you're deserving, Theodosia!"

The door opened once more.

"Miss Angelica!" He greeted her cheerfully. "Sorry, I must take care of this first."

"I understand," Angelica nodded, proceeding to look instead at some gowns and coats in display at the shop.

"Fine, I accept the privilege." Theodosia got Hercules's attention again. "You're a persistent fellow after all."

He smiled at her as he spread the coat on his working desk.

Theodosia looked at Hercules's unfinished embroidery. "And for who would that be?"

"An order from a British nobleman," He said. "Perhaps a gift of sorts for him to give."

"Oh! Speaking of gifts," Hercules stopped, then glanced at Theodosia, "I believe someone has requested me to bring one to you."

"And who would that be?" She asked.

"A secret admirer." He chuckled out, walking into a door where the supposed gift may be.

Theodosia shook her head. Then her thoughts shifted from the possibilities of whoever's attempting to court her _(perhaps Aaron?_ ) to studying Hercules Mulligan.

Men like Hercules were clearly aware of people who read other people.

At least it took a little long for him to figure out that aspect of hers.

See, Hercules always puts up a different image of himself depending on who he speaks to.

He was friendly but still secretive enough (well, in his standards) towards Theodosia.

His attitide previously was very different.

Yet it was hard to remember.

Such must be the charms of a spy on the inside, right?

As she waited, she turned to Angelica.

The woman's expression was rather forlorn, mixed with some pride.

_Love and how it makes the silliest of images!_

_Who has left the oldest and the wittest Angelica Schuyler in such a condition?_

"Good day, Ms. Schuyler." Theodosia greeted, hiding her concern with a mask she learned to make from Aaron.

She turned back. "Good day!"

Angelica took a good look on Theodosia. That mask was not strong enough. Asking, "What brings you here to the Mulligan's?"

"I'm having one of my son's coats repaired." Theodosia replied. "He's visiting on the 14th. I can't wait to see him."

"My sister's getting married on the same day." Angelica's look did not beg for congratulations, so none of that Theodosia gave.

As the accursed awkward silence entered into the women's midst, Theodosia noticed Angelica's expression. It was almost as if she was waiting for the unwanted congratulations anyway.

Theodosia wanted to be polite, but she refused the idea, sensing that giving the Schuyler a congratulations would make the poor woman bitter.

Theodosia never liked people who were bitter. They were never content with what they had. They never had the strength to even be content. They were hopeless fools to her as well.

Theodosia knew from hearing about Angelica from other people that the Schuyler was one to pick a person apart.

Angelica was actually quite like herself, but with less mercy.

And with no willingness to be put down.

_It's always pride._

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Theodosia asked.

Angelica laughed, revealing the sharpness of her strong-willed voice. "Why ask such a question? I'm fine. All is well."

_Always God damn pride._

"Then why have such a look previously?"

Angelica stopped her laughter. "Why have such assumptions?"

Theo looked into Angelica's eyes.

Fear. Violation. Disatisfaction.

_God, I can't believe she's bitter already!_

It'll be too late before the said taste is gone from the tongue of her heart.

"Tell me how you feel."

The Schuyler raised a brow. "You didn't answer my question."

"Not until you tell me how you feel." Theodosia firmed her voice, making sure she sounded older than Angelica.

Actually, Theodosia was older than Angelica. She was ten years her senior.

How young she can somehow be is baffling.

Then again, Lee is older than Washington. The latter looks five or more years older than the former.

That's equally baffling.

"Why desire this information?"

"So you don't question my assumptions any further." Theo hardened her gaze.

"I bring no harm, Angelica. I don't like to engage in gossip." _Something you should ought to cease for the good of many._

Something clicked in Angelica's head. "I thought I was the only woman in town who can pick people apart. I was wrong."

"I prefer to call it 'reading people'. If it works on Washington, it works on slaves too."

"To say that is as if you have much in your heart. Too much to feel." Angelica said, clearly trying to study Theodosia with a belief of hers. "You cannot have attitude on such an action."

For Angelica, men only paid their attention when she put her emotions down. Putting these things down made her sound more rounded and reasonable.

Theodosia scoffed, knowing Angelica's game. "What do you have against sentiment?"

"I'm afraid it poses as hindrance in presenting ideals." Angelica looked at Theodosia. "Clearly you've read **those books** as well."

"I have read them, indeed, although I must disagree with your view on sentiment."

"Who or what has ever been so successful in presenting ideals with such heavy sentiment?"

"Artists." Theodosia replied flatly. "Goodness, dear! Do you even have the slightest idea what sentiment means?"

"It relates to emotions and feelings, miss." She replied in confidence.

"It also relates to the personal treatment of certain occurrences one witnesses. Basically views...opinions, Ms. Schuyler."

Theodosia continued. "Artists, you know. They're as powerful as the revolutionaries."

"You're willing to compare such sophisticated individuals with overly emotional soldiers, madam?" Angelica was ready to put up a fight. "It's two different worlds; it's almost unimaginable to unite them!"

Theodosia laughed. "They can be united."

"How?"

"Influence and impact!" Theodosia was incredulous towards Angelica. "All the better if a random topic put at hand is ingenuitive."

Angelica started to feel uncomfortable.

Someone was trying to bring her down.

Usually, she doesn't let this slide, but for some reason, the lady she was conversing with had valid points.

The fact that she called the woman's points valid terrified her.

"I take that you have been educated, correct?" Asked Angelica.

"Many remark on it." Theodosia replied, with a slight edge of darkness. She sounded annoyed that someone pointed it out.

An educated woman was uncommon after all.

Something Angelica can relate to.

"Why are you befuddled by me reading you too well? Not used to it, I suppose?" Theodosia's tone shifted instantly. It was a surprise to Angelica.

Angelica grunted inaudibly. The woman was reading her. "Why do you celebrate in my suffering?"

"Am I?" The older woman laughed. "I can assure you, that is not my intention."

"I bet you're just envious of my social status." Theodosia's expression to this statement made Angelica realize her fear.

For once, she read a person wrong.

That never used to happen before.

And Theodosia was ready to take her down on it.

 _I expect you to dig deeper than this!_ "I could care less about that. Just a while ago, Mulligan offered to do my order for free."

"I figured that out."

_You gossiping zoilist. Can't even bother to rid yourself of your own discontentment._

Theodosia shook her head. "Don't even dare try to speak out of my 'attitude' towards you, Ms. Schuyler. I know your gossip well."

 _Damn this woman! Why can't you just--stop damn it--_ "J-just a while ago; you were concerned for my condition. What made you consider to throw that mercy out the window?"

 _Oh, now you want me to be sentimental!_ "I have no tolerance for the bitter. A woman like you shouldn't even be bitter!"

 **"I am not bitter!"** Angelica yelled.

She realized what she had just done when she looked at Theodosia's smug yet disbelieving expression.

Theodosia read her as bitter, and this woman wanted her to admit it.

"I hardly know you; you hardly know me..." Angelica turned red as her dress, taking a breath.

"Theodosia Prevost." The woman stated her name. "And truly, I don't really know you."

_The one who gave their abode to General Washington._

"In fact, I want to know you better--my true intentions actually."

_The wife of a loyalist._

"I've heard of you," Angelica said. "The gossip around you isn't too bad." _Is it true that-_

"They claim that I'm a spy, even if I proclaimed my alliegance with the patriots!" Theodosia said.

_Then I guess the rumors are wrong._

"I didn't realize someone so wise would gossip." Theodosia muttered to herself.

After a brief awkward silence, "Why do you think I'm bitter?"

Theodosia fixed her look on Angelica. "It's-"

**"HA HA!"**

The women jumped as Mulligan's voice practically shook the whole place.

The tailor arrived back in, in his hands a sunset orange shawl. It carried accents of pink and red.

"You took a while." Theodosia remarked.

"I thought I lost it!" He panted out. "Then when I found it, I really, really, **really** needed to relieve myself."

"Really?" Commented a disgusted Angelica.

Hercules tsked, smirking at Angelica, "Really."

The tailor turned to Theodosia, handing her the shawl. "Here you go, Mrs. Prevost."

"Thank you," She smiled, letting her hands indulge in the softness of the cloth.

Herc pulled a letter from his coat, handing it to Theodosia. "And a letter from him, too."

Theo stopped herself from taking it.

"What's wrong?" He asked innocently.

"This is a letter adressed to Clinton, a British-" Hercules retracted the letter before Theodosia could finish.

He awkwardly chuckled. "Whoops."

He handed her a different letter.

"What the--this is a letter to Washington!"

He did the same with this letter.

"Do you even have it with you?" Angelica asked, attentive to the scene before her.

"Here!" Hercules was covered in letters.

He handed the correct letter to Theodosia and proceeded to hide the other letters with him.

"So, when can I get the coat?"

"Around the 12th or 13th." He replied, all the letters on him hidden. "I prefer if you get it on an earlier day."

"I see," Theodosia replied.

Angelica watched Hercules and Theodosia finish up on the orders. Once the older woman left the shop, Angelica did her business with him.

She had Hercules tailor her dress for her sister's wedding.

Close relatives of the couple had Hercules's offering.

Herc came back with Angelica's dress. "You alright, Ms. Schuyler?"

"I'm alright, really." She relaxed herself. "The dress looks amazing,"

"Thank you!" _I take pride in my handiwork._ Hercules gave her the dress.

"Here you go,"

Angelica smiled weakly at it.

"How's the wedding gown?" She asked him.

He whispered close to her ear, "It's done, and I would love it if you don't tell your beautiful sister first."

She backed away from him.

Hesitant, "May I see your handiwork?"

The tailor giggled in a giddy fashion.

Taking Angelica rather roughly at her side, "A pleasure! **HA HA!** "

He quickly pulled her into the depths of the shop, going through the door.

As he halted themselves in front of the dress, Angelica instantly got out of the large man's grasp, awed at the dress.

The finest cloth. The heavenly color of white. Accents of a flamming blue, aged-out gold, and perfect shade of green.

It was perfect.

"My God, Mulligan," She exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"I'm surprised at myself, honestly." He remarked. "Do you think Eliza will like it?"

Angelica held her tears. "She would love it."

 

* * *

 

Of course she would've ended up here.

Alone drinking in a bar.

Well, the place was filled with merry making. Just like every bar.

Angelica didn't care about anything else at that moment.

Maybe that Prevost woman was right about her bitterness after all.

"Is the ceremony over already?"

Angelica perked up and turned to the source of the familiar deep voice.

Scowling, "Why are you here?"

"Your dress caught my attention," Theodosia replied.

But really, family met up here. Theodosia told her son she would do a few errands before following him back. He went ahead.

"Are you here to belittle me?" She slurred, grip on a half-empty glass.

_She's drunk. Why am I suprised?_

_Is the advantage yours? Yes, perhaps._

_You have General Washington and Colonel Laurens._

_A reader just like yourself...next._

_Angelica Schuyler._

Theodosia took the chair at Angelica's left, sitting down.

Angelica took a sip in response to this. "Thank God."

_Angelica's want to figure me out is gone. For now._

_She just wants consolation, then?_

_Maybe her toxic view on me (Someone who has ill-will on her? Really?) might change here._

_Damn it, she's drunk. I shouldn't have accused her of being bitter._

_No._

_No no no._

_Put her in her place._

_Angelica can push herself too far._

_She needs to learn that._

"Do you want a drink?" Angelica's sharp voice snapped Theodosia out of her thoughts.

"I have bad history with alcohol," Theodosia said.

"Poor thing," Angelica chugged whatever was left in her glass, slamming it on the table with a thud. "Not even a shot?"

"I never get any."

**_Theodosia meant this both ways._ **

"And I'm fine with that."

Angelica laughed. "How can you be fine? You clearly want to try, and yet you cannot." The woman's face faltered as she finished.

"What ails you?" Theodosia asked.

"Have you ever fell for someone you know you could never have, and you know very well that that someone is the only one who could satisfy you?" She restrained a hiccup. "Because that's what I feel right now--God has damned me!"

Theodosia's mask was failing again.

"I've felt it,"

Angelica sobered up a bit. Or she tried to. "Really, now?"

"I'm sure you know I'm a married woman, Ms. Schuyler-"

"Ah," Angelica cut Theodosia off. "Enslaved in a loveless marriage?"

"It wasn't always this way," Theo admitted. "But Jacques has resigned his heart to the Crown..."

"Right, a disgusting loyalist..." She scoffed.

Angelica then asked, "Does he know?"

"No. The last thing he needs to know is that I've become friends with Washington...and that I'm in love with someone else."

Angelica smiled. "I made a mistake that night--am I really calling it a mistake?"

"What happened?"

"It was during the Winter's Ball..." Angelica smiled lightly, her eyes filled with reminiscience. "His handsome face. His eyes..."

"Alexander..." She said the name before Theodosia could ask.

Theo remembered a statement from Laurens in one of their conversations. In reference to Alexander's charms: **_Don't look into his eyes, Theo. You'll be taken in. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to be where I am right now._**

If only Angelica ever got this advice. Perhaps she wouldn't be this helpless right now.

"What about his eyes?" Theodosia asked.

It's come to my conclusion, dear readers, that Alexander Hamilton's eyes get different reactions.

I pity you if those ~~dead, lifeless~~ things made you helpless as well.

"It's a wave of intelligence! He's so..." She began to slur again. "Brilliant. A man who can keep up with me--the perfect wit...so satisfying."

Theodosia simply smiled, shaking her head.

"Have you even cosidered acknowledging his brilliance?" She laughed geniunely. Her cheeks were as red as the alcohol she consumed. "Or even looked into his eyes, perhaps?"

To be fair, Theo looked into Alex's eyes even before getting John's advice.

Thank God she got charmed by Burr first.

"His brillance doesn't strike as romantic-" Angelica made a noise which displayed disappointment.

"So you're a woman who falls for good looks? Brawn?"

"I'm a woman that falls for stories." Theodosia replied.

"Alexander's story is a common one." _And a part of me thinks it will unexpectedly fall apart._ "I'm set for a more complex and less needy story."

"He's desperate, not needy." Angelica raised a brow, drinking from an empty glass trying to take the last drops. "But at least you've found that brilliant story then? Better than the one you have?"

Theodosia started to blush. "It's familliar, yet unknowable..."

"A contradiction? That's the least safe thing to fall for!"

"A type to doubt his own beliefs is a better description." Theodosia replied. "He's cautious, trying to stay unharmed, and yet, easily tempted, always trying to stay content."

"A patriot at least?"

Theodosia nodded. "He's got big dreams similar to that Alexander's. His methods to reach them are...well, in opposition."

Angelica stared at her with a drunk and incredulous look.

Her eyes were writing the name out. 

Angelica knew.

She began to laugh loudly. "You've set your sights on **Aaron Burr**?! He's disgusting!"

Theodosia shifted in her seat, blushing further.

"He has no opinion--are you even sure he's a patriot? Could've sworn he was neutral..."

"He's fighting in the Revolution--Jesus, how'd ya think I met him?"

"A man who stands for nothing...what does he fall for?"

"He stands for something!" Theodosia retorted back. "It's merely refusal to proclaim."

"Your taste, not mine..." Angelica then smiled at Theodosia.

With pity.

"I'm sorry," Angelica said, floping an arm to Theodosia's shoulder.

"Same for you," Theodosia finally got off the chair.

The younger woman waved at her as she exited the bar.

Even with the impossibility, Theodosia resigned to dreaming a little harder.

Perhaps life will go her way.

Perhaps she'll follow through.


	4. I Am Ruined, I Am Helpless--How Could I Do This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander seeks help from Theodosia.
> 
> He confides to her the buried side of the story of the Reynolds affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR THIS SPECIFIC CHAPTER: Basically The Reynolds Affair, Mentions of Rape/Non-Con, Lots of Alex breaking down into tears, Just uneasy stuff, Headcanon usage
> 
> Sorry in advance guys
> 
> If the warnings scare you enough, do not read this chapter
> 
> *A jumpskip to Act 2, somwhere after Say No To This and before The Room Where It Happens*

Knocking came on the door.

A young girl got off from where she was seated, placing a book down on the center table.

As she approached, the knocking refused to cease and became more frantic.

She opened the door.

"Dosie," Mr. Hamilton was at the doorstep.

"Mr. Hamilton?" She paused. _I don't remember Mr. Hamilton wearing excessive make up._

_Perhaps to conceal...but what?_

"Are your parents home?" He brushed back the loose strands of his hair.

"Father has errands to do," Dosie replied, letting the Treasury Secretary in. "I'll inform Mother about your presence-"

"Dosie, is someone at the door?" Mother called out.

"It's Mr. Hamilton,"

"Oh? I'll be there shortly!"

Dosie turned to the guest, "Please, have a seat."

"O-of course," Hamilton proceeded to recline on a vacant couch chair.

_My God, look how she's grown._

Alexander took a look at Dosie.

The daughter of his good friend.

She looked rather grown already--quite like Philip. They even shared the same age.

Dosie was almost as tall as Hamilton (would still make sense as his own son has outgrown him so quickly), her skin easily placed in between Washington's and Jefferson's. Darker than her mother, lighter than her father.

Her hair was fashioned as shaped-up, quite like her father's, however limited to the right side of her head. The left side was a set of feathery curls, extending to a certain length that it was bound in a sort of mix of a braid and a dreadlock.

Her brows and lashes were equally as luscious. She had her mother's rather pointed nose, her father's cheeks. Her lips were so plump that it could only be her own. No cosmetics covered her face either.

As said by Aaron, she dressed in twilight colors.

A wonderful combination of her mother's taste in sunny, warm, daylike colors--of which contrasted to Aaron's tendency to dress in particularly indigo, blue, violet: night colors.

Their daughter basically had both parents' best features, and whatever else she had she seemed born to own.

His thoughts snapped as Dosie came back, three glasses of water in hand.

Placing them down the center table, "What brings you here, Mr. Hamilton, sir?"

"I wish to speak with your parents...although either one of them is fine."

She raised a brow in suspicion.

Hamilton silently prayed the girl did not inherit her mother's ability to read.

"Alright then, Mr. Hamilton." She gave a smile, went back to where she was and picked back up the book.

This is where he wished she wasn't also as quiet as her father--willing to hide so much potential.

He took a look on the book. On the cover was " _ **Practical Education**_ ".

Hamilton had never heard of the book.

He sighed, trying to push away the memories of the night before that tried to return.

There was a reason why he headed here instead of home.

"Alexander," He looked to see the woman he was waiting for.

"Theo," He got up, although slowly, and they gave their greetings.

Dosie watched the two, putting down her book.

"Dear," Her mother got her attention, "would you excuse us?"

"A private matter?"

She nodded in response.

Dosie took her own glass and the book she was absorbed in, leaving to her room.

Hamilton realized that Theo looked weaker from the last time he met her.

"We should sit," He said.

"Of course, of course..."

And so they sat.

Alex noted how Theo was trying to look fine. It took him that long.

_She's learning from her husband._

_It would be better if he started learning from her._

Ah, the irony.

"You're not feeling ill?" He asked her.

"I just recovered from a fever," She relaxed her expression. "Right now, I'm feeling quite fine."

Before he could speak, "How about you, Alex? You don't look that good either."

_Shit shit not again_

_She won the conversation last time--even though you know you always dominate these conversations._

"Why do you ask?" He asked in response, awkward smile on his face.

"You don't usually wear that much make up." _AH FUCK._

"...was it that obvious?"

"And almost laughable too..." Theo smirked. "A round of applause; you've made yourself look disgusting!"

He scowled. "So much for help..."

"Is that why you came over?" She reclined into her chair.

He nodded, then put his head downcast.

"For a man who proclaims his mind, I didn't think he had something to hide."

Alexander knew one thing about Theodosia; she is cruel with fresh information. Particularly ones that are scandalous.

She finds the obvious fault, gets the culprit to confess the whole story, then rubs the rooted, deep-ass fault into the culprit's face, freshly danced upon by the feet of her sentiments and ideals. (Said sentiments and ideals are a part of her being.)

Reminds him of Angelica; except after dancing upon the fault, Theodosia tends to the injuries from her heels and apologizes. And then she gives a way to improve upon the fault, as it is the right thing to do.

He wondered whether her dance has become more exuberant or if her mercy has grown bigger.

He would come to find out that it was the latter.

"Have you come to admit something?" She snapped him out of his thoughts. "You usually defend yourself."

"I-" He stopped himself.

_I'm not ready. Not yet._

"I won't be mean about it, as much as you clearly want to think it be so." She tried to reassure him.

He looked at her eyes.

It was eyes that begged for story.

It just had to be those eyes.

**He gave in.**

_Of course, give in again. Like always._

_You just can't help yourself anymore, huh, Alexander?_

_Jesus, warn her at least. You just saw her hesitate a little_.

"Would you like to go through the events in your head first?"

"Much appreciated," He replied, taking a sip--no gulp, from his glass of water.

Theodosia could not only feel curiosity but also concern.

Alexander doesn't usually care too much with some of his certain wrongdoings.

If he fucked up again, _and looks guilty about it_ \--it must be pretty bad.

"...where do I begin," He started, placing the glass back on the table, straightening his posture.

"As you know...my wife and children are currently upstate--"

"And you remained to work." _If Aaron was only so willing to do this..._

"Yes. I stayed here." He cleared his throat. "Alone."

He continued. "I was weak, awake, and...well, tired!"

He gave himself a self-deprecating chuckle. "I was longing to be with my Eliza...or be entertained by Angelica--and that's when this Maria Reynolds character appeared on my door."

Alex can tell that Theodosia already knew what was gonna happen next.

"Why did you stop?" She raised a brow. "Keep going."

"You clearly know what's gonna happen next."

"Your life story so far...is a predictable one," Then pausing, "And is one to contradict; you act like a force of nature."

"Well..." He breathed, then proceeded to continue.

"She begged for assistance," He said, "Said she was being a-abused by her h-husband...a-and she couldn't go on..."

His sudden struggle to speak was concerning.

"So I gave her money, a-and I accompanied her to her-h-her home." He tensed up from this point.

"Next thing I knew, my sinful self just gave in to her gratitude--seduction--for the illiterate..."

Theodosia briefly frowned but neutralized. "And?"

"You're w-willing to hear this in-in-i-in d-detAil?" His voice cracked.

She hesitated.

Then nodded.

"Her legs were spread out, on the bed. She was practically begging!" His cheeks began to redden. "What a sight...God, even now, my mind is still clouded--"

He cut himself off, only to continue, "Her chokingly, sugary caramel skin, chocolate locks, blood-strawberry dress...covered in scars and bruises that looked like rot and mold...what was I thinking?"

Theodosia's gaze softened. _Thank God_ , Alexander thought.

And this is where the guilt disappeared and temporarily turned into an empty desire.

"She's practically candy--the taste of sweet alcohol of her skin, and yet sour, sour, sour...also tangy...the taste of her--the sour release that mixed with my own sin."

Theodosia showed no sign of discomfort, letting him tread on with the story. "I was gentle, enough for her to enjoy the experience."

"Did you?" She finally interrupted.

He paused, looking around the house. Eyeing some unknown object, "I...I guess I did."

He lowered his head, his fingers shaky yet gripping on the armrests.

"Alexander?"

_Guilt._

_It returns now, then?_

_It has to be guilt._

_I've dealt with this--but God._

_I've never seen guilt hit anyone this badly._

_Perhaps Alex just doesn't know how to properly cope with it._

"I'm s-such a **failure** \--"

Theodosia quickly rose as Alexander fell out the chair, suddenly a crying mess.

She bent down to his level, trying to compose him. "Shh, shh, shh,"

More sobbing in response.

"Alex," She raised his head ~~so he could look at her~~ so she can look at him.

His eyes were shut, covered in tears that trailed down his face. The smeared make up all over his beard which was dripping from his face revealed red-violet brusies.

He tried his hardest to look away.

"I-I'm no better than **where I c-cAme from** ," He cracked out, moving himself away from Theodosia's grasp, helplessly groping the chair he previously sat on as to sit back down.

"I'm j-just a **whore** \--a sex-obsessed **piece of shit** that shouldn't h-have risen," He gave up trying to sit on the chair. "T-that shouldn't--sh-shouldn't have involved himself in the country."

His coat was dusty from dragging himself on the floor.

"I-I'm just as bad as **my p-paren** \--" The sentence turned into a short wail.

Theodosia didn't know what to do on this sudden outbursted confession.

"G-go on ahead," He spat, finally looking at Theodosia. "S-shame me! Throw me out of your household!"

Theodosia dropped the mask; it showed no empathy.

Just as she took his glass of water, "You...you-y-you can't mean all of that,"

"G-God, that's not e-even the whole s-story," He muttered to himself.

Unfortunately, this was audible to Theo.

_Those bruises on his face--those things have a story too._

"I can see that," She approached him again, nearing the glass to his lips.

He sighed, affirming his thirst.

Theodosia pushed the glass to his lips before he could drink the water himself.

He then took the glass just to cease the drinking. "Do you want to know?"

"Don't you know me well enough?"

He sighed.

He inhaled, then exhaled, "It's been a week since h-her husband--J-James Reynolds--knew about our-o-our affair."

He tried to relax himself as he paused. It worked a little bit, as his stammering ceased.

"He extorts me every week as to keep his mouth shut. Hell, he even let me continue to fuck his wife,"

_Reynolds is a sick, sick, sick bastard--fuck that guy._

"Oh my God," Theo reacted.

"A-and yeah...I-I still gave in." He attempted to sound sarcastic, only to sound self-deprecating.

He then handed Theodosia his glass, strong enough to seat himself on the chair again. He still looked uncomfortable.

"I-I," He began to choke on his words. His eyes were turning red as more salty tears clouded them.

"I f-forgot to p-pAy this week," He cracked midsentence, a broken smile drawn into his face.

Theodosia began to fidget.

"I-I can try to--"

" **dOn't** \--" He cracked. "D-don't. Don't interrupt me."

She nodded, realizing how hard for him it was to confide the information.

"He was at the house at the time," He tried to straighten himself up. "He was furious--and then I just saw myself begging; offering that we have a _compromise_ f-for the money if I ever forget...a-again,"

He suddenly paused to cry some more painful wet tears.

Theo suddenly felt scared.

Before she could even speculate, Hamilton continued.

"There was an evil grin to his face, the drawl on his voice showing his sudden want for desire," He said softly. "He said, **_'Well, there is something you can give me._** '"

He stopped.

He tried to breathe.

He still could breathe.

Hardly.

"Somehow she knew what was gonna happen next--l-like this had happened before. She p-protested-protested? No, s-she protected me f-from him. I-impulsively. He yelled back at her, h-her daughter--he resorted to beating them--" He shook his head. "I t-tried to get him to stop; look how that turned out."

Theodosia carefully gave him a look of pity.

"I may have lost my skills in the war..." He trailed off. "I-I couldn't defend myself...then he started to b-beat me; I ended up half-conscious..."

Then he began to shake, hands glancing towards his private regions.

_**"What he did to his wife...h-he basically did to...t-to me."** _

Theodosia almost broke her own glass in trying to get water as the information struck her.

The sight of Hamilton's body adorning bruises and scars and being bent over against his will--Theodosia almost felt like crying as much as him.

Before walking in on him and John those years ago, she thought sodomy was a crime because she believed none of it was ever consensual.

Those two proved her wrong that night.

But seeing one of them being hurt by something true yet unacceptable in their nature...

She began to shed tears subconsciously.

Alex briefly noted that this action showed the most shock Theodosia had towards him.

He sulked into his chair, crying silently this time.

Theo quickly snapped out of her thoughts when she finally found him in the position.

She wiped her tears.

She picked up her glass, handing it to Alexander.

He hesitantly took it, almost dropped it, but still managed to hydrate.

"Alexander?"

He looked up at her.

What she saw him as when they first locked eyes at each other sat before her.

"T-Theo..." His face contorted to cry more, empty glass landing on his lap because of his shaking hands.

She instinctively took his hands. "I...apologize for my behavior earlier-"

"I deserve it-"

"No," She raised her voice so suddenly, making him flinch. "I-I mean-"

"God damn it!" He let go, gave her the glass then smacked his fists into the armrests. "I-I wouldn't have gotten...v-violated hadn't I gave in. _ **I always give in!**_ E-Every fucking time!"

"Alexander!" Theo tried to calm him down.

"Theodosia!" He spat back, shakingly getting up. "I cheated. I fucking cheated on Eliza."

He let out a shaky breath. "He wouldn't have wanted this either..."

Theo instantly got who Hamilton was talking about.

"I..." He was running out of breath. "I-I don't know if I can keep going."

He weakly reached out to her, disregarding how she was right in front of him.

Theodosia willigly took his grasping hands. "I'm here."

He put his head down, and instantly she took him in her embrace.

She began to gently carress his back, praying she won't inflict pain from more unseen bruises.

She never knew about his tolerance to physical pain.

"My relationship with Aaron..." She broke the silence, "It started out as an affair, actually."

_So technically, you have no right to condemn me._

_Why must I be this unfortunate to be alive right now?_

"R-Really?"

"Aaron told me you knew," _He fucking hated the rumors; probably more than I did._

"I don't remember him confiding..." By this time, Alexander had calmed down.

They let go.

"I was probably drunk," His tears were dried up.

After a brief pause, "Go on, Theo."

"I-I have nothing more to say on that," She believed Alexander could easily figure out what happened.

She gestured him to sit again, which he did. She followed as he sat.

Silence crossed the both of them.

"I don't know what happens next," He said, reclining on the chair and breaking the silence. "Whether good or bad, I fear for it."

It pained her to see him have no proper grasp of himself.

_Is this how he acts when he's fully conscious that he has no control on life's desicions over him?_

"None of us know, Alexander. No one can truly know." She said.

"Is Death coming?" He thought out loud. "Or has it come?"

Theodosia raised a brow.

"I don't understand."

"...I imagine death so much, Theodosia. It feels more like a memory." He said, almost as if he was trained to recite Scripture verse. "Is that where this affair will lead me?"

"Death is too prevalent for imagining," She said through her teeth. "Death has many sources...quite like illness."

For once, Alexander stopped thinking about his own demise. "You're scared too."

Theodosia breathed. "I've always been sickly, Alexander. I also have dreams and aspirations too."

"And you're afraid you won't ever achieve them."

"I'm afraid that no one will achieve them for me. I'll never be able to--not when I'm this sickly, this close to death, and most especially this easily content with these previous things."

"Why are you so content, then?" Alex asked innocently. "Your dreams are so important you, right?"

"My priorities were always peculiar."

"You can't waste that talent!"

"It hasn't been wasted. Watch me, Alexander." She turned to him. "Right now is an example."

Hamilton didn't get what she meant there.

He just shook his head. "Well, thank you."

He rose up.

"Wash your face first," Theo stopped him.

He paused, then agreed and followed her to the washroom.

When Alexander looked presentable once more, he gave Theodosia his farewell. She gave him some last bits of advice and he left for home.

She then put the glasses she and Alexander used in the sink. She planned to wash them later.

She felt rather exhausted after Alexander's sudden visit.

As she was headed for her bedroom, she checked on her daughter, busy either writing or drawing on a piece of paper.

"Dosie," The girl perked up.

"Yes, mother?"

"If you picked up anything from the conversation I had with Mr. Hamilton, whatever you do, keep it to yourself."

The young girl nodded, obedient forever.

Theo smiled, finally approaching her room to rest until Aaron arrives.


End file.
